GROUNDLING 4: TRANSITIONS

by ardavenport

- - - Part 9


The next day, Onie got a message, not from Tilly, but from her sickly partner, Gunnar Thintry. He wanted to talk to her. She hurried from her class on Heraldic Duties to the House of Healing. The Healer-Trainee in the entryway looked doubtful, but admitter her when she presented the note.

Gunnar was in a ground floor room with many beds lined up in rows. A little more than half were occupied with the sick or injured; the others were neatly made with fresh bedding ready for use, folded on top. The long room was bright with windows and sunlight, but there were heavy curtains and outside shutters that could be closed to keep out the cold. She walked warily past the rows of beds; the room was spotless, but the herbs and ammonia did not quite mask the lingering scents of bitter potions, blood, human waste and piss. A Healer pointed Onie toward a line of screens, wooden frames draped with pale blue cloth.

Shyly stepping around the screens, she found the man she had seen in Companion's Field a few days ago. He looked even more unwell than he had then, his cheeks sunken, his skin shaded gray. Outside the window she glimpsed Seekar, bright white against the bushes, lurking nearby.

He appeared to be dozing but he opened his eyes and blinked in her direction. They were red-rimmed and watery.

"Ah," he lifted a thin arm from under the blanket covering him. She took a seat on a stool next to his bed.

"Thank you for coming."

"I couldna' say no 'bout comin'."

He gazed at her and she waited, willing to allow the sick and probably dying Herald to look as long as he wished.

"So, you are the 'project' that the Dean has assigned to Tilly."

"Aye. Though I don' think'a meself as no 'project'."

He chuckled gently, as if he did not have strength for a real laugh. "No, I suppose not. Not anymore than Tilly was for me," he finished more to himself than her.

"Tilly is convinced you almost killed her and Molry out there. And that Healer."

"I didna try ta kill no one," Onie affirmed.

"I know. I was there and Seekar has been keeping me informed. But since the Queen herself, and Mage Elspeth have requested that she sort out your 'Ground Gift', I wanted to meet you."

"Didna know tha Queen ask'd'er special. She did na look happy ta do it, when she come ta me wit Dean Teren 'bout it."

"No, Tilly thinks you are a menace, even if you did not mean to kill anyone." He smiled, a little life coming into his eyes. "She cannot understand how anyone like you could ever be Chosen. She thinks you're dumb as a bag of rocks and you ride like a sack of turnips. And that your head is so hard that neither magic nor Mind Speech can get in and not even a fall from a Companion at full gallop can dent it." He smiled. "She went on for half a candlemark before I could even get a word in."

"Aye? Don' sound so nice ta me," she complained.

Thintry nodded. "No. From your point of view, not. But in spite of Tilly's resistance to this assignment, it has seriously caught her interest. Digging into the secrets of a Gift that no one has ever heard of . . ." His smile broadened. "And for that, I am very, very grateful to you."

Surprised, Onie sat back. "Aye? Ye's grateful fer Tilly thinkin' me stupid?"

Thintry's chuckle was cut off by a cough and he clutched his stomach, but the smile did not leave his eyes. "No. Not that." He paused, lying back on his pillows. "I'm grateful for the distraction. For Tilly. She may resist this assignment, but she is clearly excited by it. And it will give her a much healthier path to go down than fixating on me while I die."

Onie's next complaint about Tilly died on her lips.

"Ye knows that ye's goin'ta die, then?"

"I have a growth," he's fingers touched his middle, "in my liver. Many of them actually. And there are seeds of it in my hips, my gut, my bones. My lungs. The Healers say that this malady is uncommon, but when it has become so widespread, there is nothing in their power that can hold it back. A team of Healers, working together might be able to give me strength to fight it. But the growths always return, worse than before." He shook his head. "I will not die slowly, weak and in pain." He lifted his head. "I have chosen to take the righteous path."

Onie's eyes widened, but she had no reply. If the Healers could not help him, then he might as well throw himself on the mercy of whichever deity he chose. Gunnar Thintry's smile turned sad and wistful. "Seekar tells me that death is only a transition. That we are always in transition, turning from one thing to another, child to adult, ignorant to wise, . . . innocent to Chosen . . . " He shook his head.

"Death is a transition that I do not want to make. But I will not allow that to ruin the life I still have." He extended a hand to a table next to his bed and picked up a cup from among a small collection of bottles, packets and bowels. He took a sip. He grimaced, but downed more of it.

"I will take in nothing but the Healers' horrible medicines and water until the gods take me. Or spare me, if they wish. Eating is . . . unpleasant now anyway."

"Aye. I sp'ose I'd do tha same. If I had what ye has got."

"So, this is my dying man's request to you, Onie Thatcher. Keep Tilly busy. Keep her excited about whatever your Ground Gift is. Keep her energies focused on you. She cannot stop my death and she can only go astray to unhealthy places if she tries. And if she has no other place to devote her energies, she will try."

"Don' see how she could do nothin' 'bout somethin'tha Healers can't."

"That would not stop her from trying." He shook his head. "And she is very clever. Too clever. I fear to even speculate about what she might try." His eyes, bright and intense, found hers. "But she can't go astray if she's too busy with your Ground Gift.

Onie nodded. "There isna any Mage here who'as been able ta do anythin' wit' it. But Tilly, she see'd somethin' in me ridin', right away." Onie told him about how Tilly told Lillis about being un-Grounded, and how that led to both of them attempting a jump when they weren't ready for it. It made him laugh. And then cough. The sound attracted a Healer, who hustled over to fuss over the sick man and give Onie a critical glare.

She pushed her chair back and got up. She needed to go to her Weapons Training class anyway. "I's do as much as I kin, wit' Tilly."

"Thank-you. And," he raised a hand, and she turned back, "I suppose I might reward you for your help. I give you leave to tell others what I told you about my illness." The Healer frowned his disapproval, but Thintry ignored him. "I went to the Collegium, and everyone there will be full of speculation about me. I see no reason to keep secrets about it now."

"Aye."

Onie left. She did not have any time to talk about Gunnar Thintry with any of her fellow classmates between her nausea-inducing run around the salle and drills in striking straw-filled dummies with poles. But Onie did wonder, if Tilly could see what was wrong with her riding, could she help with her running, too? Even if she couldn't, the attempt would help fulfil Onie's promise to her dying partner.

Still sweaty from the workout, she decided to stop by Dean Teren's office to ask about what Tilly would be doing. But she did not expect to find Tilly there.

She could hear the young woman's complaints coming out of the Dean's office. Teren's clerk was out, his desk empty and the door to the inner office open.

"I can't believe it. They didn't write down anything. No records, no notes. They just flung spells at her and threw their hands up when they didn't work. Didn't they do any research?"

"I think that a couple of the younger Mage-Trainees were tasked with that, but they didn't find anything about a Ground Gift," Teren's voice answered.

"Did they write down where they looked? The books? Scrolls? The Heraldic Archives?"

"I don't really know. I'm sure they'll tell you if you ask."

Onie peered around the door, pushing it further open. Seated at his desk cluttered with books, scrolls and parchments, along with a half-eaten plate of biscuits and dried fruit, Dean Teren looked up at Herald Tilly, who had one hand on her hip and the other on her forehead.

"Teren, if I'm - - " she started, putting her hand down. Her hazel eyes spotted Onie. "What are you doing here?"

Annoyed by her curt welcome, Onie came into the office. "Since ye's trying ta work out me Ground Gift, I thoughts ye'd want ta talk ta tha source."

Tilly's mouth gaped and she just stared for a moment as if Onie had suddenly sprouted horns.

"When I need to speak to you, I'll call you. Right now, I'm too busy sorting out the haphazard mess that the Mages here left when they supposedly tried to figure out what a 'Ground Gift' is." Her careful enunciation made it clear that she doubted that Onie had any kind of Gift at all. And Onie wasn't sure she wasn't right.

"Dean, I need an office," she turned back to the head of the Collegium. "And at least one assistant. And," she leaned forward, hands planted on the desk, "access to all our books and records and histories on magic. All of them."

Puzzlingly, Teren did not answer. He gazed up at her and even more surprising, she backed down from his non-reply.

"Or at least someone who can have access to all the archives, Dean, to help me. If there are any records of a Ground Gift, they could be anywhere."

"Maybe I's could help?" Onie offered. "Since it's bein' me Ground Gift, I'd know better'en anyone whats ta look fer."

Tilly rolled her eyes. "No, Trainee Thatcher, I'll need a bit more than half a brain for help with this - - "

"Herald Deena Tilmin," Teren interrupted, his voice loud and commanding. "I appreciate that our previous efforts examining Herald-Trainee Thatcher's Ground Gift may have been lacking, even disorganized, but you will be working with her. I think it best that you start by being civil to each other." His words were addressed to both of them, but his eyes stayed on Tilly who silently glared through the dressing down. After a moment composing herself, Tilly spoke to Onie without looking at her.

"I don't need to talk you, yet. I've got at least a couple more days research just to get started on this. I'll contact you after that."

Clearly pleased with Tilly's change in attitude, Teren promised her an office and help. They were both excused. Onie headed toward the Collegium kitchen, but Tilly stopped her.

"I do need to talk to your Companion."

"Lillis'll be wit' me at ridin' class after next meal. An ye kin talk'ta'er any times ye like. As long as ye's polite."

Tilly's lips thinned. She had a strong jawline and perfect skin, tanned from spending time riding on circuit.

"You know that Lillis is the one who saved us. Pulled us back from death."

"Aye. I was thinkin' ye's already talks ta'er 'bouts'it."

"Yes, but she doesn't know what happened any more than we do. Just that Luba's soul was ripped away in an instant. Then me. Then Molry. And Lillis grabbed onto Molry, but she was not pulled into whatever had us. And she brought us back and whatever anchored her must be connected to her bond with you." She spoke faster, with more intensity and staring past Onie at the mystery she was assigned to solve. "With your Ground Gift . . . I'll need to talk to her again. After I know more."

"Ye's kin talk ta her any times ye like," Onie repeated because it did not seem like Tilly was really listening to her. "An' whiles ye's abouts it ye kin tell me what happ'ned, too." Onie left her in the hallway. She was not very angry with Tilly; she just had to get to kitchen duty; The Collegium's perpetually bad-tempered Cook hated it when any Trainee was late for their duties and Onie did not want to give her any more than her usual reasons to be unpleasant to everyone.

It turned out that Tamira was in a relatively good humor. The beef stew for midday meal had turned out very well and she was free with telling everyone how she did it. Possibly Tamira just liked to brag more than she wanted to keep her recipe secrets, but she had always been willing to share what she knew. And if Onie just followed her direction and stared her down whenever her temper sparked when it looked like Onie might do something wrong, she learned a great deal.

Her face, hands and arms scrubbed, a scarf tied over her hair, she helped the other two Herald-Trainees load the last of the food onto the dumb waiter and rang the bell for the others upstairs to winch it up to the Common Room. After Tamira had gone to her office with her meal, Onie sat down with the other Trainees to eat.

They politely asked after her health (Cook had not) and she assured them that she only had a few bruises left from her fall.

After a moment of silent eating the savory stew, Clem quietly spoke about what they really wanted to know.

"They say you rang the Death Bell."

"I didna do'at," she denied but realized that something like that might have happened, even if she did not do it on purpose. She explained about Luba, Tilly and Molry nearly dying, possibly because of her Ground Gift when Luba tried Healing her. And then about Lillis pulling them out of it. They were amazed but that brought up the other thing that everyone in the Collegium was quietly talking about, Tilly's partner, Gunnar Thintry. She told them what he had told her and they listened, forgetting the plates of food before them while she talked. That brought out some news from them.

"Borum is going out on circuit with Herald Grader." Swan piped up. "To take over for Tilly and Thintry."

"Aye? Ye's been wantin' ta go."

Borum Cylittle nodded, his blue eyes grave. "Yeah. But it was supposed to be after winter. With Herald Gordlin, and to the south. But now Cheeter's going with him. Grader and I have to take over for Tilly and Thintry."

"When ye leavin'?"

"Two days."

Onie looked back in surprise. "Aye, that's soon."

He put his spoon down and pushed his dusty blond bangs away from his eyes. "They said I'm ready, but . . . I wasn't really expecting to have to fill in on another Herald's circuit."

"Well, 'ats'tha life we's got now," Onie told the others. "If tha Queen needs us ta go out, we's go. An' I think ye's ready ta give out'er law as good as Herald Grader, once ye get tha hang'ov'it."

"But if Grader goes, then who will teach history?" Swan wondered aloud.

"They said Herald Undran," Borum answered. "I heard she's taught it before."

"She'll teach that an' Geography?" Onie was in both classes.

Borum's brow wrinkled. "I don't know. They usually have only one person teaching one kind of class." They speculated about it over their food, but soon enough they had to finish their meal when the bell from upstairs rang that the first load of dirty dishes was coming down and they had to get back to work.

The rest of Onie's day was ordinary, except for the people wishing her good health. Neither Onie nor Lillis saw or heard from Tilly, so whatever she was doing did not involve them. By dinner, word of Herald Thintry's illness had spread throughout the Collegium and Palace. Even Cook Tamira was subdued after hearing that there was a dying Herald in the House of Healing and she sent her helpers off early while she finished the last of the kitchen cleaning.

When Onie returned to her room, Chellie was already there. She had been staying there, with Onie's permission, to keep out of the way of Lady Delias's activities over her father's defense before the Queen.

Between the Death Bell, her fall and Tilly, Onie had quite forgotten about Lady Delias's problems. She could not do anything about them anyway, but Chellie was involved and was eagerly helping in any way she could. Two dresses, suitable for appearing in Court, had been completed and she was confident of finishing a third before Healer Morlin's first surgery, which would take place the day after the morrow. They were even going to start new dresses for both Delias and Chellie from cloth that had been found, undamaged, in a chest in Munthunt House's attic. Chellie filled Onie in on the details.

Delias's friend in the Guard, Korey Mineeladath was trying to find Lord Drogon's missing rangers, a detail that Onie was just learning. Tomet Benryle's argument with Heralds Tilly and Thintry had been that Drogon had been negligent in allowing the settlement to go on for so long, so the land should be forfeit. But when Tilly and Thintry decreed that only material compensation be given, and then Drogon burned the buildings down anyway, now Benryle was arguing that the land should be forfeit because of the wanton destruction and because the Heralds had made their decision without the testimony of Drogon's border rangers who had inexplicably gone missing.

Korey and Delias had concluded that the only way a settlement could have gone unnoticed on the edges of Munthunt lands for nearly a year was if one or both of the rangers were bribed by Lord Benryle. But once the settlement was discovered and with the Heralds' ruling that the land remain with Drogon, the most logical place for the missing rangers, flush with their bribes, to flee in winter would be Haven where they could disappear in the crowds and move on to new lives in the spring. Fortunately, Drogon had named the missing rangers in his letter. Lady Delias knew who they were and what they looked like and Korey had thoroughly questioned Drogon's messenger before he left. So, they had enough information for members of the City Guard to make subtle inquiries about the possible fugitives.

Chellie told all of this while she worked on the hem of the last dress while Onie looked at her maps for the next day's geography class. She supposed that Chellie's chatter was a distraction, but she did not think she would do any better without it. And she was at least now sure that she could at least recall where everything was in the north around Lord Drogon's lands. The drama between Drogon and Benryle seemed to make the lines, labels and squiggles on the map more like real forests and rivers and hills that people would fight over and that made it easier for her to remember them.

As Chellie reported that she had not been able to provide much more Palace intelligence to Delias other than that the Queen would allow a meeting to listen to the evidence in the dispute, Onie pushed the map aside and her eyes fell upon the clean parchment, ink and pens on the desk.

"Chellie," she interrupted. "I's not tol' me parents tha' I'm ye guardian yet."

She looked up from the tightly gripped pink hem. "You haven't?"

"Na. I didna think there'us things 'bout ye I could tell, an' I didna want'em ta think they'uz responsible fer ye, cause theys na. But since we's sure we're sisters now an' ye's set apprenticin' wit' tha hertasi here, an ye's ta be cut, so ye's can stay a woman, I's thinkin' I should write'em an' ye could tell me wha'ta say 'bout yeself?"

Chellie almost stabbed herself with her sewing needle when she clutched the dress to her, but after she properly put it and her work aside she jumped up to hug Onie.

"Thank-you," she breathed when she could speak again. "Except for Delias, I don't think anyone in my family who has been so nice to me. I mean," she looked down at herself, "I mean, 'me' as I really am."

"Well, I can't say as me brothers an' sister back in Fair Fields will think'a ye as their sister. 'Specially since they n'ver met'ye, but, " She selected a pen and uncorked a bottle of black ink, "we kin start wit' a good introduction."


- - - End Part 9